The Angels Who Rescue Plays On A Wing And Prayer

``Only because you love it,`` suggests Michael Cullen, a producer of Chicago`s hit version of ``Pump Boys and Dinettes.``

``Because it`s fun and glamorous,`` says Daniel A. Golman, a founding member of the Stratford Group, an association of Chicagoans who, over the last 30 years, have made numerous small investments in dozens of Broadway shows.

``I`ve asked myself that question many times over the last few months,``

admits Maurice Rosenfield, who, as one of the producers of Broadway`s current ``Singin` in the Rain,`` has millions tied up in a stage venture. ``And I have yet to come up with an answer.``

Meanwhile, his wife, Lois, also a ``Rain`` producer, offers this rule of thumb on how to invest in live theater: ``The same way porcupines make love. Very carefully.``

Traditionally, someone who invests a small sum of money in a show is called an angel, and no other term in the vast lexicon of the business is so apt. Earth is the place for investments that make money; the theater is another realm altogether. For every show in Broadway history, there are, at any given time, hundreds of better ways to invest and increase capital.

As the adage goes, you can make quite the financial killing in theater, but you cannot make a living. And you`re lucky if you make a return.

And yet they keep coming. Millionaires, philanthropists, doctors, lawyers and businessmen. Throw in mailmen, secretaries, policemen and clerks. Sheila Henaghan, Cullen`s partner, recalls that when they were remounting ``I`m Getting My Act Together and Taking It on the Road`` some years ago at the World Playhouse Theatre (in what ultimately proved a financial fiasco), the man installing the telephone system offered to become an investor.

``They come in all shapes and sizes,`` says Cullen.

And nobody is quite sure why. No better example can be found than ``Pump Boys and Dinettes.`` In business terms, here is a dream show. It`s a musical, usually a marketing plus, but a small musical, one with a tiny cast doubling as musicians. It has the pluses of a Broadway track record, and the bonus of several original cast members who came here to re-create their roles for a time in the Chicago run at the Apollo Theatre.

The cast was good and the show a lighthearted romp. The reviews were raves, and the right kind of raves, the ones that sell tickets: Not

``brilliant, thought-provoking, gut-wrenching,`` but ``a foot-stomping good time.`` People liked it, came back with their friends and sometimes came back a third time.

And so, on Nov. 28, ``Pump Boys`` celebrates its one-year anniversary and could well run through the spring. At least the backers of that show can`t complain. They must have made a small fortune, right?

Barely a few weeks ago, the producers finally reached the point where they are in a position to repay the original investors. ``Pump Boys,`` the dream show of 1985, just broke even.

Each week, a certain amount of the gross ticket sales of any show goes to covering the cost of keeping the show going, and those costs are considerable: For ``Pump,`` salaries (including those to the producers), advertising, royalties and rent add up, in a typical week, to around $40,000.

But, if every single seat in the Apollo Theatre in the ``Pump Boys``

price structure is sold at top dollar (as opposed to complimentary tickets or at discount), the gross is $61,000. (The highest weekly gross for the show is actually $57,000.) That only leaves a $20,000 margin in the best of all possible weeks. If ticket sales are off, there are some weeks when the show doesn`t earn its own costs or merely breaks even.

Month by month, as set up in the original agreement, any money taken in above weekly costs goes to paying back the original investment. With ``Pump Boys,`` that meant collecting $231,000 over and above the costs of the show. That took a year. From now on, any money collected each week above the break even point will be split between the investors (who get 60 percent) and the producers (who will earn 40 percent).

And so, the backers are at last in a position to earn some money. But how much? For awhile, not a whole lot. That`s because there are 26 investors, holding 35 shares originally priced at $6,600 each. Most of the shareholders hold only one share. That fraction of the 60 percent of weekly profits is a small one.

So why bother?

``We`re all investing in theater for the first time,`` admits one investor, George Platt. He and his brother, Howard, each hold four shares, more than any of the other partners. The majority of the investors are employees of the Rolm Corp., a Dallas-based IBM subsidiary of which George Platt is a vice president.